


Clara Potter and the Tale of the Murderer

by Snow_bird



Series: The Tales of Clara Potter [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chocolate, Gen, Harry Potter Has a Sibling, Harry Potter has a little sister, Hogwarts, Hogwarts: Second Year, Hogwarts: Third year, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Original Female Character, demontors, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26206876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow_bird/pseuds/Snow_bird
Summary: Clara never really cared for the summer holidays, to be honest. While most kids her age - her cousin, included - would spend most of their days playing videogames and eating all kinds of refreshing snacks, Clara and her older brother Harry were assigned to do all the chores.Outside.In the summer.Oh, how Clara hated it.After the nightmare of her first year at Hogwarts, Clara really wanted nothing more than a normal school year. Things were looking to go in the right direction of her desire -  starting with a Defence professor who at least knew what a textbook was. But when it was announced that Mass-Murderer Sirius Black escaped Azkaban, Clara knew that this year was quite possibly going to be worse than last year.
Relationships: Blaise Zabini & Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy & Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy & Original Character(s), Draco Malfoy & Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott, Harry Potter & Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter & Hermione Granger, Harry Potter & Original Character(s), Harry Potter & Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter & Ronald Weasley, Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Theodore Nott & Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott & Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Tales of Clara Potter [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903237
Comments: 20
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of an owner-encouraged dog attack. Nothing too graphic, but if you've got a queezy stomach or something like, look for the '~~' symbol. I'll put one before and after where it is mentioned. It essentially explains why Clara isn't a fan of Marge Dursley.

Clara never really cared for the summer holidays, to be honest. While most kids her age - her cousin, included - would spend most of their days playing videogames and eating all kinds of refreshing snacks, Clara and her older brother Harry were assigned to do all the chores.

Outside.

In the summer.

Oh, how Clara hated it.

When they came back to Number Four, Privet Drive from King’s Cross Station with Uncle Vernon, their trunks (with their textbooks, uniform, brooms, and other school necessities) getting shoved into their Cupboard under the Stairs, where they spent most of their life. As she watched Uncle Vernon struggle to put their trunks in place, Clara was exceedingly glad she had enough foresight to get most of her homework done while on Hogwarts Express. Harry, however, had to sneak out his books and do his assignments at night.

But, they were almost done with the summer vacation. Soon, the school season would begin again, and Clara and Harry could spend their days doing things they actually enjoyed, like Quidditch. She was even more excited about the new school year when she received her Hogwarts letter, complete with her textbooks required.

As Clara worked in Aunt Petunia’s flower garden, she trimmed off whatever flower buds she could, setting them to the side. Along with summer vacation being almost over, Harry’s birthday was just around the corner. She quickly reminded herself, that today was Harry’s birthday. He already received gifts from his friends Ron and Hermione early that morning, as well as the new _Care of Magical Creatures_ textbook from the Hogwarts Grounds and Gamekeeper Hagrid. All that he needed now was a gift from Clara, which she was in the process of preparing.

Considering the fact that the Dursleys were just the type of people to throw away or steal anything of remote value that isn’t theirs just to spite others - just like Aunt Petunia has tried many times to take Clara’s healing and protective runic jewelry (the same jewelry that the Head Auror gave her after it was discovered she was under the Cruciatus Curse for the better part of an hour last year) before finally giving up.

After that, she decided that she would make Harry’s gift as inconspicuous as she possibly could. So, she was making a series of bookmarks with pressed flowers. It was similar to what she made him last year, but she thought she could make up for it when they went to Diagon Alley for their school supplies later - she knew that she wanted to get him something Quidditch related, as it seemed that was just about the only thing he talked about, but it was a matter of finding _what_ she thought he wanted. She didn’t think she would have time to finish the first part of her gift today, but there was always tomorrow.

Except, that Uncle Vernon’s sister Marge was coming over today, and she was staying for a week.

~~

Clara shivered as she remembered the nasty woman. It was only two years ago, just before Clara left for her first year at Hogwarts when Marge had to look after Clara for two weeks, and Marge made her displeasure known quite well. That woman even went as far as to sic her dogs on Clara any time Marge saw her the day after Clara was dumped on her doorstep. Clara still had the scars on her legs when the dogs managed to bite into her, dragging her a fair distance before she was able to get away, climbing high into a tree that she ended up staying in for the rest of the visit.

By the end of it, Clara was worse for wear. She was absolutely delirious with hunger and thirst, limbs poorly healed from the dog attacks, and was hardly able to walk straight. It got to the point where Clara had to crawl to get wherever she wanted to go, which made Marge puff her chest out with pride. That was the first and last time that Aunt Petunia showed any sort of sympathy towards Clara’s condition, while Uncle Vernon was simply indifferent.

~~

“What do you have left?” Harry asked, leaning over her shoulder.

Clara startled, jerking out of her thoughts. “Just to toss the garbage,” she answered.

“I got it,” Harry volunteered, grabbing the garbage bag and heaving it up.

Clara watched him struggle with the weight of the bag, before collecting her flower buds in her handkerchief, wrapping them up securely, and placing them in her apron pocket. She then grabbed the garden tools and carefully placed them in the shed, shutting the door firmly.

“Get cleaned up!” Clara heard Aunt Petunia shriek, followed by the slam of the storm door.

The Potter Siblings groaned, trudging into the house and up the stairs. Harry didn’t even bother tidying himself up much and voted to leave his hair as much of a mess as it could be. Marge loved to criticize people, so maybe Harry made the right decision when it came to keeping her happy.

Clara, however, scrubbed her skin raw under the spray of the too-cold water. At first, she thought that all she needed to do was to clean herself well, and maybe Marge would simply glance over her. No need to pay attention to something that was sparkling clean if everything else around her was, too. But then, she thought that if she took up as much time as she could in the bathroom, then she wouldn’t have to spend much time around Marge at all. As Clara fiddled around her shared room with Harry, she heard the front door swing open, followed by Marge’s booming voice. She felt her blood go cold, and her stomach dropped to her toes.

Maybe she really should just stay up here. Marge wouldn’t care - in fact, she’d probably rejoice at the knowledge that she never had to lay eyes on Clara again.

As she was thinking it through, the door swung open, and Harry walked in.

“Are you ready?”

Clara shook her head. “I-I don’t think I can,”

“Why not?”

“It’s _Marge_.” Clara hissed.

Harry nodded. “I know,” he started, “I hate her too. But Uncle Vernon made it perfectly clear that he wanted both of us down there for dinner, if nothing more than to make sure that we don’t do anything ‘freaky’ up here.”

“Do we have to?”

“We do,”

Clara sighed, plopping down on Harry’s mattress. “I hate that nasty woman,”

“I think the only one who likes her is Uncle Vernon,” Harry chuckled, sitting next to her.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “I don’t know what happened that made you this terrified of her, I will be there this time. If she does anything to you, I will stop her.”

“But, what about Hogsmead?”

“Screw Hogsmead. I can always find a way to go.”

“But-”

“No buts. I can always go to Hogsmead, even if it’s when I’m twenty-seven. What I can’t always do, however, is stand up for you when you need it - Merlin knows I haven't done a good job of it recently."

"Harry," Clara started, though Harry ignored her.

"So, she does something that scares you, I’ll step in.”

“She always scares me,”

“Then I’ll always step in.” Harry smiled. “Come on, let’s get you out of those robes and downstairs for dinner. We don’t know when we’ll get food again.”

Clara nodded, following his direction. How did she ever luck out with such an amazing brother?

*

Dinner was a disaster.

Marge got drunk quickly and went off on a rant of breeding - both dog and human. Clara nearly burst into tears when Marge revealed that she had her help drown one of the puppies - the runt of the litter, who wasn’t as strong as the others and needed a little guidance to its’ mother. Clara tried to control her emotions, but Marge was quick to notice the change in her behavior.

“It’s always clear right at the start who’s the runt,” Marge said loudly. “They’re the kind who will never amount to anything. Best to kill them than to watch them fail, I say.” She took another drink of her brandy (she moved on from wine a long time ago), “It all comes down to blood, as I told Vernon earlier today. Bad blood will out. Now, I’m saying nothing against your family, Petunia-” she patted Aunt Petunia’s bony hand with her brick of a hand “-but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here’s the result in front of us. Two disappointments, one worse than the other,”

Marge gave Clara a cruel smile - the same smile she gave her just before a dog chased her.

Clara tried to control her need to flee. She gripped on to the sides of her chair, holding her in place.

Marge’s dog Ripper started to growl lowly, setting Clara on edge.

“Bad eggs always produce the most runts in her litters, instead of producing proper, functioning members of society. The runt of the litter always is the biggest disappointment,” Marge continued, not looking away from Clara, “far too soft-hearted for the world, too weak to find their way in society, and in constant need of assistance. Much too burdensome on us normal folk. They should all be killed right out of the mother’s womb, I say.”

“She is not,” Harry said, his voice taking on a dark tone.

“I-I beg your pardon?” Marge challenged.

“Clara is not a burden to society. Just because she has sympathy for others - which you clearly lack - does not make her any less of a human.”

“More brandy?” Uncle Vernon cut in, grabbing the bottle in desperation.

“No, Vernon,” Marge hiccuped. “Let the boy speak. Proud of your sister, are you? Your good-for-nothing parents, too? They died in a car crash - no doubt drunk-”

“They didn’t die in a car crash!” Harry roared, jumping to his feet.

“They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you and your sister to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!” Marge retaliated, swelling with impossible fury. “You are an insolent, ungrateful little -”

But she stopped. For a moment, it seemed like she ran out of things to say. She swelled even farther in anger, though Clara was surprised to see that the swelling didn’t stop. Her big, red face started to expand, her tiny, beady eyes bulged, and her mouth was stretched too far for speech. Her blouse buttons lost their strength to keep together, shooting across the dining room and bouncing against the walls.

Clara’s eyes widened. Marge was inflating like a balloon!

“Marge!” Uncle Vernon shouted, shooting out of his chair and grabbing for her hand as her whole body began to rise towards the ceiling. She was impossibly round now, her hands and feet stuck out to her sides oddly. She began to drift outside, and Clara found it difficult to hide her amusement.

“No!” Uncle Vernon shouted again, seizing one of her feet.

He tried to pull her down, though he was nearly lifted off the ground in the process.

Harry ran off, wrenching the door to the cupboard open, pulling both his and Clara’s trunks out. Clara quickly pushed the trunks closer to the door, before following after him to grab her backpack filled with whatever meager clothing she had. She rushed to their dresser and ripped the bottom drawer of it open and popped the secret compartment open to take out the bag of runic items the Head Auror gave her and tore down the stairs - Harry just centimeters behind her. Just as they made it back downstairs, Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, looking far worse for wear. Ripper was also dangling off Uncle Vernon’s arm, causing her to smirk.

“Come back in here!” He bellowed, “Come back and put her right!”

A reckless sort of rage seemed to take over Harry, as he kicked open his trunk lid and seized his wand, pointing it at Uncle Vernon.

“She deserved it,” Harry panted, “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me - away from _us_.”

Clara reached for the doorknob, twisting it open.

“We’re going,” Harry continued, “I’ve had enough.”

In the next moment, they were out in the dark, quiet street, heaving their heavy trunks behind them - Hedwig’s cage tucked securely under Harry’s arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you stick around to see how this story ends!!
> 
> I probably (most likely) will not be able to update as often as I did with the previous story, because COVID and my school likes to make life much harder than it should. I'm shooting for updating every other week, but it just might end up being once a month.


	2. Chapter 2

They made it past several streets before Harry collapsed on the side of the road, panting. He sat quite still, no doubt listening to the beat of his heart that was pounding as loudly as hers. Clara sat next to him, trying her best to calm down from tonight’s events. In less than ten minutes, she went from having a very stressful dinner to being out on the streets with her brother, with no place to go.

She could feel herself start to panic.

“I’m not sorry for what happened,” Harry started, “She deserved it. In fact, I’m sorry that she didn’t get worse. Suggesting that you don’t deserve to live. Who does she think she is?”

“Probably thinks she’s the Queen, but she’s nothing but a foul woman,”

Harry chuckled. “That she is.”

They were quiet for quite some time, thinking. Clara couldn’t think of a place where they could stay, not on such short notice, anyway. Harry had sent Hedwig to stay with Ron that morning, so she couldn’t send a letter to one of her friends asking if they could stay there for the time being. They also didn’t have any kind of Muggle money, so they couldn’t go to a hotel of any sort. Besides, the hotel staff would probably be suspicious of two children coming up to them, unsupervised.

Harry straightened suddenly, popping his trunk open and digging through it.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for the Cloak of Invisibility. If I can find it, we can fly to London unseen. Then we can stay at the Leaky Cauldron.”

“Would we even fit on your broom? Because I don’t have mine.”

“We can fit,” Harry grunted. “It’ll just be a tight squeeze.”

Clara nodded. “Alright,”

Then she felt it. It was an odd sensation like she was being watched. Not one of those creepy watches, but something more of curiosity and determination. Harry must have sensed it too since he stood up, his wand grasped firmly in his hand.

“ _ Lumos _ ,” he said, his wand glowing brightly. Harry held it high, examining the space behind them.

Clara hoped it was nothing more than a stray cat. Though, considering their luck, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned out to be a rabid fox, instead.

Harry narrowed his eyes in concentration, stepping back a little. He went too far, however, and tripped over his trunk.

Clara panicked, reaching out for him in the effort to prevent him from falling. All it did, though, was make her fall on top of him with a loud  _ thud _ .

There was a deafening  _ BANG _ that followed, and Harry threw his hands up to shield their eyes against the sudden bright light. With a shout, Harry rolled them over just as a large wheel stopped where they were laying not moments ago. Clara stared at the tire for a moment longer, trying to calm her racing heart. Clara looked up, surprised to see a lanky boy leaning against the side of the bus entrance, reading from a piece of paper.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve-”

The man stopped suddenly, eyeing the siblings critically. Harry shoved Clara off of him and scrambled to his feet. Clara rolled her eyes as she stood, dusting herself off.

“What were you two doin’ down there?” Stan asked, dropping his professional manner.

“Fell over,” Harry offered,

“‘Choo fall over for?” Stan sniggered.

“We didn’t do it on purpose,” Harry answered, sounding quite annoyed as he dusted himself off. Harry looked around the bus and into the alleyway where the creature was before, though there was nothing there.

“‘Choo lookin’ at?”

Harry shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Woss on you’re head?” Stan asked, peering at Harry’s forehead.

“Nothing,” Harry patted his hair down.

“Woss your name?”

“Neville Longbottom,” Harry answered quickly.

“An’ yours, miss?” Stan asked, looking at Clara.

“Andreanna Longbottom,” Clara answered.

Harry gave her a surprised look, before focusing back on the conductor. “So, this bus. It’ll take us anywhere?”

“Yep,” Stan smiled. “Anywhere you like, long’s it’s on land. Can’t do nuffink underwater. ‘Ere,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows. “You did signal us, dincha? Stuck out your want ‘and, dincha?”

“Yes,” Harry said shortly. “How much would it be to get to London?”

“Eleven Sickles,” Stan answered. “But for fifteen you get ‘ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an ‘ot water bottle an’ a toothbrush in the color of your choice.”

Harry stuck his hand in his trunk, pulling out his money bag, and shoved some coins into Stan’s hand. He and Stan then carried the trunks into the bus, with Clara holding onto Hedwig’s cage. She climbed onto the bus and was surprised to see that there were no seats. Instead, there were beds that stood beside the curtain windows, candles burning beside each bed.

“You two have these,” Stan whispered, shoving the trunks under two beds. “This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville and Andreanna Longbottom, Ern.”

Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing thick glasses, nodded to the two of them.

Harry nervously flattened his hair again.

Clara gripped onto one of his hands, giving it a squeeze. Harry gave her a weary smile.

“Take it away, Ern,” Stan said, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie’s.

There was another loud  _ BANG _ , and Clara found herself flat on the bed, thrown backward from the incredible speed of the Knight Bus.

Clara had a feeling that this was going to be a long ride.

*

Clara was absolutely right. By the time that they pulled up to the Leaky Cauldron, Clara was absolutely certain that she was going to throw up. She stumbled off of the Knight Bus but was surprised that when her feet met solid ground she didn’t much feel like she was going to barf.

Still feeling woozy, Clara straightened, leaning against the bus for support.

“I knew it!” Stan shouted, bringing Clara’s attention to him. “Ern, Ern! Guess ‘oo Neville Longbottom is, Ern! ‘E’s ‘Arry Potter! I can see ‘is scar!”

“Yes,” An older man said testily.

Clara pursed her lips. He didn’t seem like the person Clara was very fond of - in fact, he seemed like the exact opposite of someone she would willingly spend her day with.

“Well, I am very glad to the Knight Bus picked Harry up,” the man continued, “but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now,”

“Clara’s coming with us, too, right?” Harry crossed his arms.

“Clara?” the man asked.

“My little sister. She’s standing right there.” Harry pointed, and Clara waved her hand dumbly.

The man grimaced. “No, I must say she will not.”

Harry opened his mouth to challenge him, but the man beat him to it.

“Tom will lead her to your rooms, and she will meet you there.”

Only then did Clara notice a man standing just behind the other one. Tom seemed like a nice fellow and had a wide grin on his face as he looked between Clara and Harry.

“Come along, Miss.” Tom started, moving to open the door for her. “Right this way, Miss,”

Clara did as asked, and Ern dragged Clara’s trunk behind them.

It was quiet as they walked, going up several flights of stairs before coming to room number eleven. Tom opened the door, revealing a very nice looking room. There were two wonderfully comfortable-looking beds, along with two matching dressers.

“I’m sorry about the small space, miss,” Tom started, crouching in front of the fireplace, “We had to transfigure another bed in here, as all of our other two-bedded rooms are currently in use. I hope you and your brother won’t mind the squeeze?”

“We’ll be fine,” Clara smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Tom smiled gratefully, though their attention was pulled away by a series of sharp tapping against the bedroom window. Tom moved to open it, and Hedwig swooped in, diving to her cage.

“Hedwig!” Clara cheered, rushing forward to pet the owl. “You found us!”

Hedwig cooed in response, nipping Clara’s fingers affectionately.

“Very smart owl,” Tom observed. “If there is anything you need, Miss, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Of course,” Clara smiled again. “Thank you, Tom.”

Tom bowed lowly, quickly leaving.

When the door latched, Clara sighed. She plopped down on one of the beds, Hedwig hooting from the lack of contact.

“Sorry, girl. But I’m simply knackered.” Clara yawned. “I should probably get ready for bed. Watch my stuff, please?”

Hedwig gave her another hoot, though adjusted her stance for a look-out. Clara chuckled, popping her trunk open, searching for her toiletries.

*

It was several days before they got used to their new freedom. Harry caught Clara up on all he knew about the escaped murderer, and how he was actually a wizard named Sirius Black. Harry claimed that Sirius Black somehow killed twelve Muggles at once, and managed to blow up another Wizard, leaving only the victim’s finger behind. Clara thought she had heard the name somewhere, or perhaps read it in a book, so she made up her mind to try to find it.

They spent their breakfasts at the Leaky Cauldron, watching the customers. There were those who argued over the latest article in  _ Transfiguration Today _ ; a wild-looking warlock; groups of witches planning out their day of shopping; and what looked to be an old hag who ordered a plate of raw liver.

After breakfast, they went into the backyard, which led them to Diagon Alley. They spent long days under the bright umbrellas outside of cafes, where the other diners were eagerly showing off their purchases, or discussing the whereabouts of Sirius Black. Clara was glad that Harry no longer had to do his homework while Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were asleep because now she could actually sleep through the night and not be disturbed by his obnoxious flashlight. Now, they did their homework at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor, occasionally receiving help from Florean Fortescue himself. Clara thought he was a great help with her History of Magic assignments and made the subject a lot more interesting than it would be with Professor Binns. When she told him so, he simply waved her compliment away, though he did give her several cookies along with her next sundae.

It was during one of their studying times that Draco and his mother walked into the ice cream parlor. Clara was shocked to see them, especially since she thought that Draco only ever went to one of the French shopping alleys when he was out with his mother.

“Clara?” Harry asked, “What are you looking at?”

“Draco’s here!” She hissed.

At the sound of his name, Draco perked up, looking around to see who called him. When his gaze landed on Clara, he smiled.

“I thought you were your relatives?” he asked, walking towards them.

“We were. But we’re at the Leaky Cauldron now.”

“Why?”

“Harry blew up Marge.”

Draco’s attention shot towards Harry, who was now an impressive shade of red.

“Clara,” Harry hissed.

“It was impressive,” Clara shrugged, taking a bite of her sundae.

“Why’d you blow up this Marge?” Draco asked.

“She was wrong,” Harry answered, stabbing his sundae with his spoon.

Draco moved to prod further, though stopped when his mother cleared her throat.

“Draco, a moment, if you will.” She said, walking out the doors.

Draco quickly excused himself, before rushing after her.

“What do you think that was about?” Clara asked.

Harry simply made a shrugged.

When Draco and Mrs. Malfoy walked back into the store, Draco moved to their table, pulling out a seat.

“If you would let me,” he stated, “I’d like to stay with you two while you’re in Diagon Alley.”

“Why?” Harry narrowed his eyes.

“There’s a killer on the loose, Potter.” Draco sneered. “And there is safety in numbers, believe it or not.”

“Why would you want to help us?”

Draco stared at Harry for a moment, before answering.

“Because, Potter, I have no desire to see your sister dead on the streets because of your ignorance.”

Harry shot up, his chair falling over from the force of it. “I dare you to repeat that, Malfoy.”

“Harry,” Clara put her hand on his arm. “I don’t think that’s what he meant.”

“That’s what he said!”

“I know that’s what he said, but listen for a moment.”

Harry grumbled, though quieted none the less.

“He used the worst-case scenario to make you see the logic in his offer. It probably won’t happen, but if we accept his help, the likelihood of Sirius’ attacking us is dropped significantly.”

“But we don’t even leave the Cauldron when it’s dark out.”

“Black won’t care if it’s day or night,” Draco said, leaning back in his chair. “According to Mother, he likely has the Black madness, which will scatter all sense of reason. He’ll cause havoc and kill people whenever he pleases.”

“And what about you?”

“Father’s been teaching me defensive spells since I was small. I can keep him off until the Aurors show up.”

Harry snickered, though stopped when he noticed Draco’s glare.

“Okay, let’s say I accept your offer. What will you be doing the entire time?”

“Whatever you’re doing. I can bring something to read while you do homework since I finished mine weeks ago.”

Harry bristled again, though heaved a great sigh when he noticed the pleading eyes Clara was giving him.

“Fine,” he huffed. “But only under one condition.”

“What is it?”

Harry grinned. “You do whatever I say when I beat you at Quidditch when we go back to Hogwarts.”

Draco chuckled. “Sounds good to me, seeing as I’ll be the one beating you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! Please leave a review!


	3. Chapter 3

Early the next morning, Draco Floo-ed into the Leaky Cauldron just as Clara and Harry finished with their breakfast. Clara wanted to finally get Harry’s gift, so their first stop was Gringotts. She wouldn’t be able to afford the newest broom - the Firebolt - but she did find a pair of wonderful Seeker’s gloves for him. His old ones were starting to develop holes, and Clara didn’t want him to get blisters from wearing them for much longer. Draco was surprised to learn that they were sharing a vault, and urged them to take a further look into it, as surely there was more to their name than a single trust vault.

Harry and Clara shared a look of curiosity. It certainly didn’t hurt to try, so Clara didn’t see why they shouldn’t.

Once they arrived at Gringotts, Harry and Clara made their way over to one of the tellers. Trying her best not to appear rude (she read that the Goblins were particularly stingy when it came to etiquette), she asked if there were any vaults under the Potter name asides from their trust vault. The Goblin analyzed the two, before leading them to a back room with a large desk in the center, where they were told to wait.

Soon, another goblin appeared. When they explained their question, the goblin looked very shocked (which Clara was rather confused by), and immediately conducted the search for any other vaults.

Once they were done, it was revealed that Clara had a trust vault with a staggering amount of money (though not as much as Harry’s, as she was not the Heir to two Ancient and Most Noble Houses - what the other house besides the House of Potter was, Clara didn’t know), as well as access to the family vaults. There were no exclusions as to what Harry could access and Clara couldn’t, as it appeared that the Potters did not agree with the thought that the Heirs were to receive everything, while the other children (the ‘spares’, the Goblin said) were simply to rely on whatever amount of generosity of the Heir bestowed upon them.

Clara was given a key to her trust vault, and both of them were given the keys to the family vaults. Harry quickly gave his copies to Clara, claiming that she was by far less likely to lose them than he. The Goblin then called for a cart-driver to take them to their vaults, which led to the most exhausting cart ride Clara had ever been on.

Clara was taken to her vault first, as it was closer to the surface. Harry was quick to ask why, and obviously grew upset when the Goblin answered if his argument with the poor creature was anything to go by. She rolled her eyes, making quick work of stuffing her Gringotts’s-provided coin sack with the bronze, silver, and gold coins so they could get out sooner.

It was Harry’s vault, next, and he did the same as Clara. They were offered to be taken down to the family vault, they quickly refused. That would be a trip for another day, and Clara hoped that that day wouldn’t come for quite some time.

Not that Clara didn’t want to see what was in the family vaults - she did, truly - but she heard from her housemates that a lot of family vaults had the portraits of their ancestors in them, for one reason or another. Clara didn’t want to run the risk of the Potter family vault having talking portraits and them deciding that Clara wasn’t exactly what they wanted in a descendant. So, she would wait until Harry visited the vault, and he could tell her if it was safe down there or not.

“So, there were more vaults?” Draco asked when they came back into the foyer of Gingott’s, pushing himself off the pillar he was leaning against.

Clara nodded. “Yes! And the goblin advised us to look into our duties or something like that.”

“What does that mean, anyway?” Harry tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. “We’re Half-Bloods, what duties could we possibly have?”

“There are duties that each Pureblood family Heir and Heiress needs to be familiar with,” Draco shrugged, “it’s part of the reason that, traditionally, if a Pureblood family passes and the Heir survives, even if the Heir was a Half-Blood or otherwise adopted-”

“Like a Muggleborn?” Harry interrupted, his eyes wide.

Draco just gave Harry a look. “As I was saying, they would be placed with another Pureblood family, so they would be brought up knowing what they need to do to improve upon their family name.”

“Like?”

“Investments to improve the family wealth, Wizegmont seats for political gain or favor, and so on. Each of the original Pureblood families has a Wizegmont seat that cannot be taken away - some seat holders are Half-Bloods, so you wouldn’t be out of place.”

“Wizegmont?”

“Wizarding government. Honestly, Potter, do you not know anything?”

Harry pursed his lips.

Draco rolled his eyes. “The Wizegmont is made up of old Wizarding families who sit in on government-issued trials and meetings so that they can help sentence criminals, decided movements and laws for Wizarding Britain, things like that. The Malfoy Family has one which my father currently holds, Longbottom has one that Longbottom’s grandmother holds, and the Potters have one, too. But, as far as I know, it is empty.”

“When can I take it?”

“When you accept the Potter Lordship title.”

“When is that?”

“Whenever you decide. Heirs have been known to take their family title as young as fifteen. But, there’s a lot of catching up you have to do before you can take the seat. You have to prove you understand how the government works, for one.”

Harry’s face fell. “Seems like a lot of work,”

“It is, but you’ve got a few years before you are eligible to take it. If you want, I can help you prepare.”

Harry gave him a skeptical look. “Really?”

Draco nodded. “Of course. I’m going to be spending a lot of time around you, so I might as well make it beneficial.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

Clara’s eyes darted between the two, before clasping her hands together. “Can we go now, please?” she drew out, “I want to get Harry’s gift before someone else buys it.”

“But I thought your birthday was days ago?” Draco asked, an eyebrow lifted.

“It was, but Clara wants to get me another gift.”

“Why?”

“Because my first one wasn’t as good as I wanted it.” Clara pouted. “We’re here in Diagon Alley, so I can get something actually useful!”

“Clara,” Harry started,

“Nope, won’t have it. Let’s go!” She grabbed Harry and Draco’s hands, pulling them out the doors of Gringotts.

Once they arrived at the Quidditch shop, Harry and Draco broke off to drool over the new Firebolt in the display window, while Clara went into the store and snatched the clearanced Seeker’s gloves. Her eyes flitted across the Chaser items (including a new glove that helped keep a grip on the Quaffle in stormy conditions!), though she quickly shook her head, chasing the thoughts of getting something for herself. Everything she had was still in good shape, so there was no logical explanation for her to get something new. As Scarlett liked to say, there was no point in fixing something that didn’t need fixing.

Instead, Clara ripped her gaze off of the gloves and raced to the cashier, who simply shook his head in amusement. As he rang her up, he advised her to harden them in the dying ashes of the fireplace, as it would make the dragon skin last longer. Clara nodded eagerly, thanking him earnestly as she took her purchase.

Harry and Draco were still outside, oogling over the Firebolt. She skipped up to them and gave the gloves to Harry, who seemed very pleased with his gift. Draco also seemed impressed with the quality, which Clara knew meant that Harry’s gloves would last for much longer than she thought they would. After all, Draco certainly did like to talk about ‘good quality’ items.

“I think we should get our textbooks, now,” Harry said, stuffing his gloves into his back pocket. “No use in waiting.”

Draco nodded. “I quite agree. Have you gotten to go to the apothecary, yet?”

“Did that two days ago,”

Draco gave Harry a harsh look. “You _did_ manage to get quality items, correct?”

“I got what everyone gets,” Harry tried, causing Draco to heave a great sigh.

“At the very least tell me Clara didn’t get expiring ingredients.”

At Harry’s unhelpful look, Draco swung his attention to Clara.

“ _You_ got quality ingredients, didn’t you?”

“I think so?”

Draco gave her a harsh look, before pushing her to the apothecary. “Obviously you didn’t,” he started, “or else you’d know for sure. I’ll show you which ones to look for.”

Harry groaned several feet behind them, though Draco showed no sign of acknowledgment. Clara just resigned to the fact that she would be listening to Draco lecture her about shopping for the next century.

*

As it turned out, Draco was right. Harry and Clara selected the ingredients that were expiring soon - which, according to Draco, heavily affects the potion’s outcome. He showed them what to look for in certain items - such as the porcupine quills having a light brown color meant that it was at its peak performance, a darker color meant that there were still a few months of good use, while a dull brownish/gray meant that it went bad. Draco also suggested buying the stock that was near the back, as those were most often the freshest the apothecary had to offer.

Draco was kind enough to pay for Clara’s items, though he left Harry to pay for his own. Not that Harry seemed to mind at first, though he was awfully moody throughout the rest of the afternoon.

After that, it was off to the bookshop. Instead of the books of spells that were quite possibly the largest books Clara had ever seen that were in the display window last year, there was now a large iron cage that held about a hundred copies of _The Moster Book of Monsters_. Paper was flying everywhere as the copies fought each other, locked together in furious matches of dominance. If there was even a thing of book dominance.

Draco pushed the door open, walking swiftly into the bookstore. Harry nervously looked at the display window again, walking through the threshold, Clara right behind him.

“I need a copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters,_ please,” Clara heard Draco say.

Clara noticed that the man that Draco was talking to paled quite considerably, though his eyes hardened with determination. He nodded once, grabbing a thick pair of gloves.

“Out of the way,” he gruffed, slipping the gloves on and grabbing a large walking stick. He reached for the door of the _Monster Book of Monsters_ cage, took in a deep breath, and swung the door open, releasing a mighty battle cry as he whacked the copies on the spine.

Clara winced as each hit made a _thunk_ , each copy bumping into each other.

As the man reached for a book, one of the copies bit his arm, making him howl with pain.

It was during this train-wreck of a scene that one of the copies managed to get out of the cage, chomping on everything it came across. Clara just barely noticed it out of the corner of her eye before one of the displays of books fell. She reached for the copy, swooping it up into her arms as it tried to get away, running her fingers down its’ spine out of habit more than anything else.

Instantly, the tension in the book fell away and started purring pleasantly. She was surprised to see that it even fell open, resting on a page about Merfolk. As she eagerly read the information on the page, she startled when she heard a shout.

“How did you _do_ that?!” the man demanded, rushing up to her.

“I - uh - ran my finger down the spine?”

“You _pet_ it?

“Yes?”

The man stood there, absolutely gobsmacked.

“But of course,” he said after a few moments, “it’s _The Monster Book of Monsters_. It has the influences of a living thing.” He looked up, snatching the copy out of Draco’s hands, and ran his hand down the spine. The copy sagged in his hands, opening up with no protest.

The man shouted with glee, jumping several feet into the air - which greatly surprised her because he seemed to be getting on in years - before grabbing Clara’s hands and spinning her around in what she assumed was best described as an Irish Jigg.

“Wonderful, wonderful!” The man cried, forcing them into a sudden stop. “Your textbooks are free, young lady, as well as anything else your heart desires!”

She quickly opened her mouth to refused, though she was stopped by a finger placed just before her face.

“Ah ah,” the man said, shaking his head. “I won’t accept anything else. You have saved me from much pain that I was sure to face when the hoards of students came in for their own copy of _The Moster Book of Monsters_!”

“But, won’t the owner be mad about you giving away books?”

The man laughed. “I am the owner, miss.”

“Oh,”

“Please,” the owner said once again, “your textbooks are free, as well as whatever else you want. I can’t thank you enough, miss.” he wiped his eyes, which for some reason were lined with tears. “If you can somehow find our copies of _The Invisible books of Invisibility_ I will be forever in your debt.”

And that was how Clara ended up leaving the bookstore with all of her textbooks, many books that looked extremely interesting, as well as other curious little knickknacks that the bookstore offered. Draco had even slipped in one of his favorite books - with the claim that she would greatly enjoy it - though she had the feeling that he would actually be the one reading it the most.

Just as she was making her final selections, she tripped over something near the back, tuck neatly into an empty nook of the store. Peering into it, she was surprised to see that there was a mountain of dust laying on an enormous pile that appeared invisible. Glancing towards the owner, she called for him.

“Sir?”

“Yes, miss?”

“I think I found your invisible books.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! I hope you enjoyed it!  
> With Fall Break coming up soon, I'll hopefully be able to post another update sooner!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update!! Hope you guys enjoy it!!

And so the days went, Draco coming to the Leaky Cauldron early each morning. On the days where the Potter siblings didn’t go into Diagon Alley, Draco would spend most of his time tutoring Harry in all things politics, while Clara simply read her new textbooks. She was very interested in her Defense book and was greatly looking forward to meeting her new Professor. At the very least, she could trust that this person knew  _ what _ a textbook was.

On the days where they ventured out into Diagon Alley, Draco made sure to take them to the best shops, teaching them what to look for when seeking the best deals. Harry grew tired of it quickly, especially when Draco started teasing him.

“Really, Potter, is it so hard to understand the difference between cloque fabric and matelasse?”

“When you keep using those fancy Italian words, yes!”

“It’s French, Potter. I thought you were smarter than that.”

Harry often gave a great shout of annoyance, while Clara was frequently cackling in the background.

*

Harry started looking for Ron and Hermione as the start of the term grew near. They ran into Dean and Seamus in the Quidditch shop, who gained Draco’s sneer. Clara also saw Neville Longbottom outside of the bookshop, which she made sure to say hello to him, as he was being told off by his grandmother about misplacing his book list not long before she saw him.

Neville seemed glad that she stopped to speak to him, and especially so when she provided him with most of the books he would be needing. She didn’t know what extracurricular activities he chose, so she was, unfortunately, unable to tell him which ones he needed. The owner of the shop, however, was much too glad to provide Neville with the proper textbooks.

Clara also ran into Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini - two Slytherins who were a year older than she. They didn’t speak to each other much, though there was always a comfortable silence when the three of them sat together in the library or the common room. Though, it seemed that their relationship was going to change.

“Good morning, Potter,” Theodore said, tipping his head towards her politely. “I trust you have had a good vacation?”

“It was very nice, thank you. Have you had a good break, too?”

Theodore shrugged. “As good as it could be, I suppose.”

Clara lifted an eyebrow, though Blaise was quick to take her attention, while Draco pulled Theodore away.

“I thought you were staying with your relatives?” Blaise asked.

“I was, though Harry blew up Marge, so we had to leave.”

“Marge?” He echoed.

“Uncle Vernon’s whale of a sister. She’s incredibly unpleasant, so I am quite glad we left.”

Blaise’s eyebrows lifted curiously, though he didn’t say anything more.

“Harry?” A voice called behind them. “Harry!”

Clara turned, only to find Ron and Hermione sitting outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor.

Harry must have seen them, also, since he raced off towards them.

“Ah, the other part of the Golden Trio,” Blaise muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s the nickname some of us Slytherins have given Potter, Granger, and Weasley. Three Gryffindors, always together.”

“I see,” Clara said slowly.

“Anyway, Miss Potter, I see that you have employed the use of Draco to keep you safe? Smart move, I’d say - especially considering that Draco has always been gifted with spell-work. What did you have to do to get him to help?”

“I didn’t do anything. Aside from getting Harry to agree, that is. He offered to help us.”

Blaise lifted an eyebrow. “Did he really?”

Clara nodded. “Why is it so astounding that he wanted to help?”

“Well, considering his history with him, I figured that he would be rather reluctant to offer a hand. But, I assume his loyalty to those of his house is stronger than his dislike of Potter.”

“Maybe he doesn’t dislike Harry at all. He did offer to teach him about Wizarding politics.”

Blaise’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “Have you taken my wand?”

Clara’s brows furrowed. “I didn’t even think you had your wand on you.”

He gave her a blank look, before shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant. I believe the Muggle term of it is ‘pulling my leg’.”

“Then why didn’t you just say that?”

Blaise went to open his mouth but was stopped when he saw Theo making his way over, his face flaming red, Draco following.

“Can we continue with our purchases, Blaise? I want to make sure that the good ink I discovered is still available.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “As if you don’t have bottles upon bottles of it in my room.”

“You’re staying with Blaise?” Clara asked.

Theo nodded. “Difficult situation, it is. He sleepwalks, see, and it can be quite terrifying to wake up from a deep sleep and hear someone crash into the china cabinet downstairs.”

“I do not sleepwalk!”

“No, I dare say you don’t,” Draco chimed, earning a grin from Blaise. “You sleep-sprint.”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy!” Blaise shouted.

“Well, it’s true,” Draco defended.

“Clara!” Harry called, “Come on; let’s go to the pet shop!”

Clara gave him a nod before turning to the Slytherins. “If you’ll excuse me,” she curtsied, pivoting on her heels.

“Pet shop?” Theo echoed.

“ _ The Magical Menagerie _ . Muggles call that kind of shop a pet shop.” Clara heard Blaise’s offer as she scampered off.

When she reached Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Harry stretched out his hand for her to take so she wouldn’t get left behind in the busy streets of Diagon Alley.

“What are we getting?” Clara asked.

“Ron’s getting Scabbers looked over, while Hermione’s getting an owl.”

“Sounds exciting!”

Harry nodded absentmindedly. “If you want, we can get you an owl there, too.”

“An owl?”

“Well, I got to thinking that it isn’t fair if I’m the one with a pet, is it? If we got you an owl - or another pet if you want - then we both have someone with us.”

“What am I?” Ron cried. “Chopped liver?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant, Ron, and you know it.”

“Do I?”

Clara snickered.

There wasn’t much room inside the shop. Every nook and cranny was simply stuffed with cages and necessary items for the proper care of each animal offered. Away from the walls - with just enough room for a grown person to shuffle behind to get their items - towards the center of the shop, in separated kennels and tanks, were the animals.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near a window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the sides of their tank, and a white rabbit kept changing into a silky top hat and back again, each time accompanied by a loud popping noise. There were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly. Near the register, was a cage of sleek black rats that were playing some kind of game using their long, bald tails.

Ron was giving them very harsh looks, despite them looking at Ron longingly as they played. Though, at the same time, Ron looked like he wanted one of the rats, too.

Glancing around the room, Clara felt a tug in her chest to buy all of them so they could have room to roam freely - much more room than their kennels and tanks appeared to give them. But, she considered, if she did buy all of them, then what would be left for the next person? And she had no way of looking after them while she was at Hogwarts, so they would be forced to fend for themselves.

Clara walked over to where the birds were kept, giving each of the owls a close look. The owls hooted with interest as she neared them, several of them fluttering their wings in the attempt to catch her attention.

“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest things?” She cooed, a broad grin appearing on her face.

Several of the owls answered.

As she stroked their feathers, Clara couldn’t help but notice that there was one off to the side, acting as if it didn’t notice her. It was white and rich brown - a nice difference from the light coloring of the other owls - and was facing the window, looking outside. Curiosity taking over her, she walked towards it.

When she got close, the owl gave a started sound, swinging its’ head towards her.

She froze.

The owl’s eyes looked clouded over - completely different from the clear eyes of Hedwig and the other owls in the shop - almost as if it was partially blind. The owl stared at her for several long moments, before trilling loudly. It shuffled towards her, facing her fully.

“My, aren’t you gorgeous,” she cooed.

The owl trilled again, pecking at the cage door.

“Are you wanting out?”

The owl trilled again.

“You managed to talk to her?” a voice asked behind her.

Swinging her head around, Clara was surprised to see one of the shopkeepers watching over her shoulder.

“She hasn’t spoken to anyone since she got here,” the shopkeeper continued, watching the owl. “I was beginning to wonder if she would ever find someone.”

“Find someone?” She echoed.

“Owls are mysterious creatures, as all birds are. They usually pick someone to adopt them at least a week into their stay here. She’s been here for the past month, staring out the window. When she first arrived she chattered to the other owls constantly, though as time went by she quietened significantly.”

Clara lifted an eyebrow.

“But,” the shopkeeper continued, grinning at her, “it appears that she chose you.”

Clara opened her mouth to say something but was stopped by Harry.

“You found an owl, Clara?”

She glanced over to him, nodding. “Yes,” she smiled, “yes, I did.”


	5. Chapter 5

By the time they left with the owl, Hermione was outside holding an orange cat and Ron was clutching Scabbers close to his chest.

“Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!” Ron cried.

“He didn’t mean to, did you, Crookshanks?” Hermione cooed, petting the cat.

Clara thought the cat looked like he’d rather dive into the deep end of the Black Lake than get suffocated by Hermione.

“And what about Scabbers?” Ron demanded, “He needs rest and relaxation! How is supposed to get that with that thing around?”

“Stop worrying,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Scabbers will be in your dormitory, and Crookshanks will be in mine, what’s the problem?”

“Ten sickles says Hermione’s going to let Crookshanks go wherever he wants,” Harry whispered into Clara’s ear as they left for the Leaky Cauldron.

“Twenty says she carries him into your dorm,” Clara replied, earning a nod in agreement from Harry.

Clara’s owl screeched in agreement, earning a laugh from the Potter siblings.

When they came to the Leaky Cauldron, they found Mr. Weasley at the bar, reading the latest on the  _ Daily Prophet _ .

“Harry, Clara!” He smiled when they approached. When he put the paper to the side, Clara saw the familiar picture of Sirius Black.

“I have got to see who he is,” She thought to herself, settling the owl cage on the table in front of her, taking a seat. “I know I’ve seen that face before, possibly if he was a student at Hogwarts?”

“They still haven’t caught him, then?” Harry asked.

“No,” Mr. Weasley shook his head. “They’ve pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try to find him, but no luck so far,”

“Would we get rewarded if we caught him?” Ron asked. “It’d be good to get some more money-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron,” Mr. Weasley started to look very worn out. “Black’s not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It’s the Azkaban guards who’ll get him back, mark my words.”

Right then, Mrs. Weasley entered the bar carrying shopping bags, followed by the Weasley Twins, Fred and George. Percy was right behind them, proudly displaying his “Head Boy” badge.

“Harry,” Percy said, holding his hand out, “how nice to see you,”

“Hello, Percy,” Harry answered, trying very hard not to laugh.

“I hope you’re well?” Percy continued, shaking Harry’s outstretched hand.

Clara covered her mouth with her hand, snickering. It looked rather similar to what she’d expect being introduced to a mayor was like.

“Very well, thanks-”

“Harry!” Fred cried, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. “Simply splendid to see you, old boy-”

“Marvelous,” George interrupted, pushing Fred aside and taking Harry’s hand. “Absolutely spiffing.”

Percy scowled at them, before pivoting on his heels and walking swiftly towards an empty seat next to Clara.

“Oh,” Percy exclaimed when he saw Clara’s new owl. “You finally got one!”

“Finally?” Clara echoed.

“I figured that Harry would want to get you an owl sooner or later, seeing how he loves Hedwig. I thought he would have gotten you one last year, to be honest,” He reached into his pocket, pulling out an owl treat and offering it to the bird.

The owl quickly snatched it, cooing.

“Have you thought of a name for her?”

Clara shook her head. “No,”

“Well, Hedwig’s named after a German saint. Maybe you could do something similar? Like Agnes?”

“Or Teresa?”

Percy nodded. “Or Teresa.”

Clara thought for a moment, watching her owl closely. Her movements, although a little rigid for being so young, seemed almost graceful.

“What about Maple?”

“Like the tree?”

Clara nodded. “Yeah, like the tree.”

Percy thought for a moment. “Yes, Maple is an excellent name. A pleasure to meet you, Maple.”

Maple cooed, nibbling softly at his fingers.

Percy just shook his head as he shifted in his seat, muttering something she couldn’t catch. The movement brought her attention to the gleaming badge on his shoulder, which reminded her of what she was going to say before.

“You’re Head Boy?” Clara asked, glancing at the badge before smiling broadly. “That’s amazing!”

Percy chuckled while the Twins groaned behind him.

“I was rather surprised myself,” Percy started, “I thought for sure Matthew Daughtery - the Ravenclaw Prefect from my year - was going to take it. Imagine my delight when I received my Hogwarts letter and found this badge in it!”

“Ah, yes, imagine his delight,” Fred drawled.

“Couldn’t have possibly been more pleased,” George added.

Percy gave them a look, before turning back to Clara. “It’s a really big honor, and I hope that I won’t disappoint the Professors for choosing me.”

“I’m sure you won’t. You’re their best choice!”

Percy grinned, while the Twins groaned.

“Please stop inflating his ego,” George whined.

“His head is big enough already,” Fred sobbed, laying his head on George’s shoulder.

“Oh, come off it,” Percy groaned.

The Twins snickered, quickly making the way up the stairs of the Leaky Cauldron, their shopping bags clutched in their hands.

“Have they been like that all summer?” Clara asked.

“Except for when we were in Egypt. They only tried to lock me in a cursed hall once.”

“Oh no!”

Percy shook his head. “It was all in good fun, but it was terrifying at first. I could have apparated myself out if worse came to worse.”

“But we’re not allowed to use magic outside of school!”

Percy chuckled. “Technically yes, but actually no. You’re actually not allowed to use magic in front of Muggles.”

Clara blinked. “What?”

“You’re allowed to use as much magic as you want, just not in front of Muggles. If you were to use it now, then the Ministry would simply know that an underage witch used magic. They don’t know what spell or what reason you did so. But if you used magic in front of a Muggle, that’s when they know absolutely everything. It’s part of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.”

“Oh,”

“It’s really quite confusing when you first hear about it, but it becomes easier to understand. We really only say ‘no magic outside of school’ for the Muggleborns. It makes it easier to deal with all the questions of ‘why not’ if they think that no one else can use magic, instead of only them from being prevented from using it.”

“Well, I guess that does make sense,”

Percy gave her a small smile. “Anyway, how was your summer?”

Clara grinned widely. “It was the best! Harry blew up Marge!”

Percy’s face paled. “Is that so?”

*

A little after dinner, Clara managed to slip away to her room. She placed Maple on her dresser - a bit aways from Hedwig’s cage but still within sight so they could get used to each other - and quickly dug through her trunk, searching for the picturebook Dobby gave to her while she was in the Hospital Wing last year. When her fingers brushed the spine, she grabbed it.

She looked at the cover, watching the two pictures - a picture of James Potter and another of Lily Evans, separated by one larger picture of the Hogwarts courtyard - grinning widely at her. James’ picture reached to the side and brought in a small yellow rose which he held up for her, almost like he was asking her to take it. Clara smiled sadly, running her finger across the flower. She quickly shook her head. She had something important to do. She could watch her parents’ pictures another time.

Flipping the book open, Clara scanned each page. They were all photos of her parents’ time at Hogwarts, from when they were First-Years up until graduation. When she got past the first page, Clara froze.

There was Sirius Black, eleven years old, and his arm slung over her dad’s shoulder, with two other boys (one boy with scars littering his arms and a large one on his cheek, and the other boy was rather stout with short, wispy hair) laughing beside her father and Sirius Black.

Clara’s brain short-circuited before she flipped through the pages with determination. James and Sirius in their dorms, James and Sirius at Breakfast, James and Sirius at the Quidditch Pitch, in the library, in the kitchens, in the courtyard, James and Sirius, James and _ Sirius, James and Sirius, JamesandSirius, JamesandSiriusJamesandSiriusJamesandSirius- _

Clara slammed the book shut.

They were  _ friends _ . And by the looks of it, close friends - nearly to the point of being siblings, if she had to guess. What had Sirius gone through that made him snap so wildly that he abandoned his friendship with her father and joined Voldemort? What made him kill all those innocent people?

Clara closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. What was she going to do with her new discovery?

*

It was early the next morning, the morning of September first, that Clara hopped out of bed and rushed around the room, grabbing her things and placing them in her trunk. Maple trilled loudly when Clara bumped into her cage, though quietened quickly when she realized that her perch wasn’t getting moved. Harry stirred from the noise and was soon sitting on his bed, blinking slowly as he watched her.

“Why are you going so fast?” Harry yawned. “It’s not even six o’clock yet.”

“But what if something happens and we’re late?” Clara asked. “I don’t want to make us more late by not getting everything,”

“It’s ‘later’, Clara, not ‘more late’.”

Clara blew a raspberry. “You know what I meant.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever,”

Clara moved back to her trunk, tightly folding her clothes.

“I learned something last night,” Harry started, “something that I wasn’t supposed to know about.”

“What? You were adopted, and I am the rightful heir to the throne and now we have to battle to the death?”

Harry snorted. “No,”

“Then what was it?”

Harry opened his mouth, before quickly shutting it. “Well, you know about Sirius Black?”

Clara furrowed her eyebrows. Should she tell him what she found out about Sirius? She glanced at Harry, who looked rather nervous. No, she’d wait until after he told her what he found out before she’d make the decision to share what she knew.

“The murder?” Clara tried, her voice sounding shaky. “Yeah, I know about him. I think he escaped Azkaban or something,”

“Clara,” Harry groaned. “This is hard enough to explain without your sass.”

She swallowed. “Sorry, please continue.”

He gave her a look. “Sirius is after me.”

Clara’s stomach lurched.

“He wants to kill me.” Harry offered after she remained quiet.

“Why?”

Harry shrugged. “Voldemort tried to kill me, but he failed. I guess Sirius wants to finish the job.”

“But why? There’s no point in doing so. Voldemort is dead, so Sirius would have no reason to try and win his favor.”

“Maybe he’s not trying to win his favor?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,”

Clara rolled her eyes. “I still don’t understand it. He lost, so he should have stayed where he was.”

Harry sighed. “And do you want to know the worst part?”

“What?”

“I can’t go to Hogsmead. No doubt the professors will prevent me from going, even if I can get someone to sign my form.”

Clara laughed. “That’s what you’re worried about? Hogsmead?”

“Well, it’s not like Sirius is going to kill me. I’m starting to think I’m immortal at this point.”

“Of course, my brother is immortal. What next, you’ve been to Mars?”

“Saturn, actually.”

“Ah, yes, Saturn. How silly of me to forget.”

Harry snickered. “Yes, how silly.” He flopped back down on the mattress, bringing his blanket up to his chin. "Wake me up when it's time to leave," he said once again, and not ten seconds later, he started snoring.

Clara just rolled her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I hope you enjoyed it!!


	6. Chapter 6

When they finally made it down to the pub, the only one who was down there was Tom, who was reading  _ The Prophet _ with a furrowed brow.

Ron soon stumbled into the pub, wrestling his sweater over his head.

“The sooner we get to the train, the better,” he started, coming over to where they were standing. “Percy’s driving me mad.”

“Why?”

“I’m the one having to room with him, that’s why. He’s going on and on about keeping up with my personal hygiene, saying that I won’t get any girls looking like I do. Which, I don’t know why he cares, he broke up with Penelope Clearwater before summer started - and good riddance to her, I say.” He glanced at Clara. “Do I look fine to you?”

“You look stunning.” Clara nodded.

He gave her a look. “Are you being sincere?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why did he break up with Penelope?” Harry cut in before Ron could say something else.

“Because of the way she treated you, of course,” Ron answered. “I didn’t think he cared before, seeing how he really doesn’t care about anything the family does, but I think he took her repulsion of you as a massive insult. She apologized about it, of course, but Percy wouldn’t hear of it. I learned of it over a particularly tearful Floo call,”

Harry’s eyes grew wide.

“At that moment,” Ron continued, “I was proud to call Percy my brother. Honestly, if she insults family, that’s a big indicator she will not try to get along with the rest of us. And Weasleys are nothing if not loyal to our family.”

“W-what?” Harry stammered.

Ron gave him a surprised look. “You do know you’re an honorary member of the Weasley family, don’t you? You and Clara both.”

Harry just stared.

“Do you mean it?” Clara asked.

“Well, of course, I do! You’ve got the sweaters and everything!”

Harry and Clara glanced at each other, and Clara was pleased that she was not the only one feeling the weight of Ron’s words.

Mr. Weasley poked his head through the entrance.

“Ron,” he started, “get your things. I believe our ride will be here in a moment.”

“Yes, Dad,” Ron answered, quickly walking up the stairs.

“And make sure your siblings are up, please!” Mr. Weasley yelled.

Ron’s groan could be heard quite well, causing Clara and Harry to snicker.

“Have you got your things?” Mr. Weasley asked, sparing a glance towards the siblings.

“Yes, sir,” the pair replied.

“Good. Bring them here, and I’ll put them in the trunk when the Ministry cars arrive.”

“Ministry cars?” Clara asked. “Why?”

“Just a safety precaution, Clara,” Mr. Weasley answered. “That, and I have yet to lay hands on another working vehicle.”

“Sorry,” Harry said meekly.

“Nothing to apologize for, what’s done is done. Just be sure to ask before you use something of mine.”

“Of course,”

~~~

Soon, two Ministry cars pulled up to the pub, and they were ushered into them. Clara was squashed between Harry and Ron, with Hermione and Percy joining in. The ride was less vomit-inducing than her ride in the Knight Bus, which Clara was infinitely glad for. The Ministry cars certainly looked normal, although they managed to squeeze into spaces that Uncle Vernon certainly wouldn’t have been able to.

When they finally made it to King’s Cross, the Ministry employees parked the cars, found several trollies, and loaded them up.

Maple was awfully shaken up about it as she was placed on top of Clara’s trunk, ruffling her feathers quite a bit.

“It’s alright,” Clara soothed. “Soon we’ll have you safe and secure so you won’t move a bit.”

Maple trilled, leering at the trolly distrustfully.

She chuckled. “Come along, then, let’s get you inside.”

Clara closely followed after Harry and Ron, who were trailing behind the others. When they reached the platform between 9 and 10, Clara was instructed to go through first.

She gulped, quickly starting her brisk walk with a skip, clenching her eyes shut as her trolley came close to the pillar. Once through, she let out a massive sigh of relief, pushing her trolley towards the train.

“Clara!” a voice shouted, quickly followed by a collision into her. “It’s been months! How are you?”

Clara turned her head, only to let out a deep sigh when she saw that it was Camilla Blishwick, her roommate and the younger sister of the Slytherin Beater Aries Blishwick.

“I’ve been excellent.” Clara smiled. “How has your summer been?”

Camilla pouted. “Mam made Aries and me go to our relative’s house in Germany for the summer with the hopes of us getting connections, or whatever. The only thing he and I liked about it was that we got to see the German Quidditch team play - our grandfather’s a massive fan.”

“I didn’t know your family was German!”

“Only my Mam’s side. Papa’s full-blooded English, and he doesn’t really like us being gone for so long and so far away, but Mam convinced him to let us go. Don’t know how, if I’m being honest.” Camilla shrugged, her eyes wandering a bit before settling on Maple. “Oh! You’ve got a Spotted Owl! A handsome one, too!”

“Harry got her for me,” Clara smiled. “Her name’s Maple.”

Camilla grinned, before giggling. “You know, maple wands are wands for travelers and favor the ambitious.”

“So Maple is ambitious? Or are you saying she chose me because she thinks I’m ambitious?”

“Maybe both, maybe not. Maybe she chose you because she knows you will travel with her.”

Clara furrowed her eyebrows. “I think you’re reading too much into it.”

Camilla shrugged. “Oh well. Shall we get on? I think Ursa saved us a seat.”

Clara nodded, quickly lifting her trunk onto the baggage trailer. She gave Maple to one of the attendants, who promised to place her next to a window so Maple wouldn’t feel too cramped. They quickly weaved their way through the train, coming up to the compartment that Ursa and Scarlett were sitting in.

“Clara!” Ursa cheered. “How has your summer been?”

“Excellent,” Clara grinned. “By your letters, I assume your summer was nice?”

“Oh, it was magnificent! My grandfather dropped by for a visit!”

“Grandfather?” Camilla echoed.

“He’s the one who works in Egypt, overseeing the Curse Breakers.”

“Oh! I think one of my friends’ brother works there!” Clara chimed.

“Who?”

“He’s the Weasley’s older brother. Bill, I think his name is?”

Ursa thought for a moment. “Oh, yes, Mr. Bill Weasley. Grandfather spoke highly of him, saying that he showed excellent talent!”

“What’s Curse Breaking?” Scarlett asked.

“The basic answer is where you go into areas with lots of curses that other people can’t break, and break them,” Camilla answered, “but it can also be used to break through wards and other difficult things.”

“Sounds fun!”

“It’s lots of hard work,” Ursa continued. “You’re away from your family for years sometimes, and you could even lose your life.”

“As with most jobs, if you think about it,” She shrugged.

Ursa shook her head. “Either way, I would much rather work in St. Mungo’s. At least I’d be home most evenings.”

Clara rolled her eyes while Ursa and Camilla continued their conversations on careers.

“Did your uncle treat you alright over the summer?” Scarlett asked Clara quietly.

“He did, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“His sister came to visit, and Harry and I barely lasted the night before we left for Diagon Alley.”

“What’d she do?”

“What she always did,” Clara answered, swinging her feet.

Scarlett pursed her lips. “Well, if you want, I can see if my mother will let you and Harry stay with us during the summer,”

“Seriously? But, I wouldn’t want to-”

“You wouldn’t be a burden, Clara, nor would you be in the way. True, you may have to spend thirty minutes with your relatives, but we could have you with us,”

Clara was silent for a moment, not sure of what to do. She could accept, but that would put too much burden on Scarlett and her mother. Besides, Fred and George already promised to get her and Harry as soon as they could next summer, so it might be too much of a hassle for them to get her.

“Just think about it.” Scarlett eventually said. “At the very least, you could spend the night every other week or so.”

Clara grinned. “I can hardly imagine what my aunt would do if she lost her little servant,”

“She could stand to do the chores every once in a while, I think.” Scarlett snickered.

The door to the compartment slid open, and Harry poked his head in.

“Ron, Hermione, and I will be in the compartment ten doors down, the second compartment to your left three carts away if you want to come find me,” Harry started quickly, looking fairly nervous, “Not that you have to, but if you want to, you can. There’s someone else in the compartment, but it was the only one that was somewhat empty, so we’ll have to squeeze if you or your friends if you come to sit with us - oh, um, hi,” Harry gave the others a smile, though it came out more nervous than anything, “I’m Harry, by the way, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Goodness, Harry, did you breathe at all?” Clara asked.

He gave her a look.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry,” Ursa started, “We’ll keep your offer in mind.”

He gave them one last nod, shutting the door firmly.

Clara sighed, burying her face into her hands. “Please tell me Aries has done something like that?”

“No, not really,” Camilla answered.

Clara groaned.

“I think it’s sweet,” Ursa smiled.

~~~

A good while later - and after several rounds of reviewing what they learned last year in preparation for the upcoming year - the compartment door opened again, revealing the sweet trolley.

“Anything of the trolley, dears?” The lady asked.

“Ooh! May I have a Pumpkin Pasty and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, please!” Camilla asked, hopping out of her seat.

“I’ll have a Licorice Wand and a Cauldron Cake,” Ursa said, digging her hand into her pocket to retrieve her coins.

“Chocolate Frogs!” Scarlett shouted, jumping off her seat.

“And you, Sweetie?” The lady finally asked Clara.

Clara fished in her pocket, pulling out her coins and quickly counting them.“I’ll have a Pumpkin Pastie and a Cauldron Cake, please,”

The lady grinned, plucking the listed items off the cart and handing them over.

“Have a good trip, my dears,” she smiled again, closing the door firmly.

“Oh, I’ve been craving these for simply weeks!” Camilla chirped, ripping open the package of the Pumpkin Pasties.

However, just before she could bite into it, the lights of the train flickered.

“Is that normal?” Ursa asked.

“No,” Camilla shook her head.

The lights flickered again several times, and it didn’t come back on. There was a screech as the wheels stopped turning, causing the train to come to a complete stop. The usual chatter that could be heard through the walls disappeared, and Clara hardly dared to breathe.

“What’s going on?” Scarlett whispered.

“Might there be a repair going on?” Clara offered.

The temperature slowly started to quite noticeably drop.

“I don’t think it’s repairs,” Camilla answered.

Soon, the girls could see their breaths in the cold air. Ursa’s breathing became rapid, and Camilla reached over and gripped her hand tightly.

The compartment door slid open, revealing nothing but pale, scabbed fingers wrapping around the side of the door. Clara could feel Scarlett move away from the doorway, likely folding into herself to not only make herself smaller but to preserve some body heat in the rapidly dropping temperatures.

Clara wished she could do the same, but she felt rooted to her spot.

After the fingers came a cloak, and whoever was in the cloak took in a deep, rattly breath that made Clara’s head pound.

Suddenly, an intense cold dropped over them, the type of cold that reached all the way to the bones and gripped on. The cold went deeper and deeper, wrapping itself around every inch of the body it could, paying special attention to the heart as it pushed its’ way through.

Clara’s eyes drifted shut. She couldn’t see anything but the darkness, she hardly remembered what the light was like. She drifted in the cold, sinking deeper and deeper. Was she ever warm? Or was the cold all she knew? Hands gripped around her, pulling her farther and farther into the cold. Clara panicked, fighting against the fingers, desperately peeling them off of her. She kicked, she punched, she bit and smashed. But the fingers were relentless, gripping her harder and pulling her faster.

What if she just let it? It couldn’t possibly have been the worst thing to happen to her, right? She considered it for a moment, and just as she was about to accept her fate, she heard a scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another update! I hope you enjoyed it!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Another chapter for you!! I hope you enjoy!!

“Clara? Clara, wake up! Wake up, Clara, wake up!!”

Someone was slapping her cheeks, and the last one felt like they punched her square in the face.

“I’m up,” Clara croaked, forcing her eyes open.

Draco was the first person she saw - which wasn’t surprising, as he was only inches away from her.

She guessed he was the one slapping her.

Draco finally looked down at her, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. “Oh, thank Salazar, Merlin, and Morgana,” he whispered, dropping his head against her chest.

“You’re awake!” Scarlett cheered, “You’ve been out for hours!”

“Hours?” Clara echoed.

“Not hours,” Someone said behind Draco, “But long enough to cause worry. Here, take this, it’ll help.”

Clara managed to sneak a look around Draco, and paused when she saw who it was.

It was a man in what looked to be his mid-Thirties, dressed in well-worn clothes. He had several scars running down his face - several of which looked exactly like the scars her father’s friend Remus Lupin had.

Clara wondered if he truly was Remus Lupin, and if she should expect Peter Pettigrew, the last member of her father’s quartet, to be making an appearance soon.

The man was holding out a large bar of chocolate towards her, which Camilla grabbed.

“Be sure that she eats all of it,” He said, reaching into his cloak pocket. “And the rest of you eat these. Better safe than sorry, I’d say.”

Once the chocolate was distributed, Draco helped Clara onto the compartment seat, where she was given the large chocolate bar. She took a bite of it, not feeling the least bit hungry, and the candy bar seemed tasteless as a result. Which was a shame, considering that she loved chocolate.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked again.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She nodded. “But, when did you get here?”

“When I heard Ursa screaming, I came to see what was going on, only to find you passed out.”

“I actually passed out?”

Scarlett nodded. “The Dementor was really close to you, and it seemed to be opening its mouth when that man came to save you. A bright light came to chase the monster off, and I thought there was a howl as it did so. No one else heard it, though,”

“I was too busy screaming,” Ursa shrugged,

“And my ears were being shattered listening to it,” Camilla added.

Clara chuckled. “Let’s just hope this is the most exciting the school year will get,”

Draco snorted. “Careful, or else you’ll jinx us.”

*

Soon thereafter, the train pulled up to the station. Draco led them out of the compartment and into the stream of students, quickly meeting up with Blaise and Theo, who quickly asked who had screamed and why. A little bit ahead, just off the platform, Clara spotted a familiar head of platinum-blonde hair.

Clara grabbed onto Camilla and Scarlett’s hands, who in turn grabbed onto Ursa’s hand, pulling them with her as she quickly waved her way through the crowded students, coming up to her fellow second-year Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood’s side.

“Did you have a good summer?” Clara asked when she arrived.

“It was very pleasant, thank you,” Luna grinned. “Did you like your chocolate?”

Clara shrugged. “It was fine,”

“I liked mine,” Ursa said, Scarlett agreeing.

“I couldn’t finish mine,” Camilla confessed.

“You best eat the rest of it,” Luna advised, skipping a little as they crossed the bridge over a stream. “Although I’m sure under different circumstances it would taste better,”

The Slytherin girls nodded glumly, Camilla fingering the wrappings of her chocolate bar before eating the candy.

The group soon made their way to the carriages, where Clara was shocked to see the Thestrals standing patiently at the front of each carriage, prepared to pull them to the school. She must have stood still for too long, because she was bumped soon after her discovery, knocking her out of her shock.

“Oh, terribly sorry about that, I hope - Clara! What are you doing standing in the middle of the road?” Cedric Diggory, a fifth-year Hufflepuff, asked. “You could get hurt!”

“Sorry,” Clara apologized. “I was just looking at the Thestrals,”

“Thestrals?” He echoed.

“The creatures pulling the carriages,” She offered.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I think you better be getting on one of the carriages, Clara,”

She lifted her eyebrow in question. “Is there something wrong?”

Cedric sighed, before giving her a warm smile. “No, nothing’s wrong. Hop into one of the carriages, and we’ll talk later.”

Clara nodded, quickly turning and racing over to where she saw Harry last.

*

Once all the students made it to Hogwarts, the upperclassmen quickly chose their seats. Clara was seated next to Theodore Nott, who was right across from Draco. Scarlett sat across from Clara, and they shared a look after noticing that Theo and Draco seemed to be ignoring each other - a drastic change from just a few minutes prior.

“What do you think happened?” Clara mouthed, trying her best to be discrete.

Scarlett shrugged. “Theo stopped at the carriage, and Draco had to pull him into it. After,” she shrugged again, leaving Clara to assume their argument happened within the confined walls.

At that moment, Draco looked over to the both of them, which Clara and Scarlett quickly schooled their expressions.

“Do you expect that this year will be as exciting as last?” He asked, leaving his question open for the taking.

“I certainly hope not,” She heard Blaise answer. “I actually want to sleep at night.”

Theo snickered.

“Well, considering the Dementors, I won’t be sleeping much,” Camilla pipped.

“Why?”

“They came on the express, what’s to stop them from coming into Hogwarts?” She shivered.

“I highly doubt Dumbledore would let them come onto Hogwarts grounds,” Theo soothed.

“But they can’t be controlled!” Camilla argued. “My father says that even now the Ministry has no hold on the Dementors. They don’t listen to anyone.”

“But that man made the Dementor back off,” Ursa pipped.

“Yeah, with a super complicated spell-”

“The Patronus charm,” Theo interrupted.

“-the Patronus charm that I have no doubt-” Camilla stopped. “It was a Patronus?”

Theo nodded. “My aunt - may her soul rest - was quite gifted in charms, and loved that one the most. It’s a defensive charm and is also used to send messages. It’s the only thing known to drive away Dementors.”

“Why?” Clara asked.

“Because it’s powered by happy thoughts and emotions. Dementors feed off of grief and misery, so anything that is happy they stay away from. However, the caster must choose a happy memory that is strong enough to create a Patronus - especially if you want your Patronus to produce a corporeal shape. My aunt’s Patronus was a badger.”

“Does your mom have a Patronus?” Scarlett asked.

Theo nodded. “A borzoi.”

“What’s that?”

“A Russian wolfhound.”

“Oh,”

“But she hasn’t cast a Patronus in a long time. She used to do it all the time when I was little.”

Blaise nodded. “I always liked the borzoi. It felt like a constant hug, or a warm spring day when it was around.”

“Fascinating,” Ursa murmured. “Do you think we’ll be taught about the charm?”

“Maybe. I imagine that the Patronus theory is usually taught in the upper years.” Theo offered before they were all hushed for the Sorting ceremony.

As Clara watched the Sorting ceremony, her gaze shifted over to the Professors’ table, her eyes landing on the man from the train. He was sitting in the spot Lockhart sat in last year, so she assumed that he was the new Defense professor. Judging by his textbook choice, she wagered that he had to have some background in Defense. Maybe that was where all his scars came from.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that the doors of the Great Hall opened and that Harry and Hermione quickly entered, walking swiftly to their seat at the Gryffindor table.

Harry and Clara made eye contact as soon as he sat down, and he mouthed the word “McGonagall”, which made her realize that she hadn’t seen her at the Professors’ table. Her eyes flitted to her seat, noticing that McGonagall was currently sitting down. She wondered what the Transfiguration professor held them back for.

“Welcome!” a booming voice called, causing Clara’s attention to fall onto the speaker, Headmaster Dumbledore, “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I have a few things to say to you all, one of which is very serious.” He cleared his throat, before continuing. “As you will all notice, our school is currently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on the Ministry of Magic business.”

He paused, and Camillia said a hushed “I knew it!”

“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,” Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is the leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors.”

Dumbledore paused once again; he looked very seriously at the student body, and nobody moved or made a sound.

“On a happier note,” He straightened, a small smile coming forward, “I am pleased to welcome two new professors to our rank, this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

There was scattered applause, and Clara made sure that hers was among the loudest. Professor Lupin stood up from his chair, bowing that the student body once. His eyes flitted across the students, before landing on Clara. She gave him a broad grin and waved. He gave her a small, rather hesitant, smile.

“As to our new appointment,” Dumbledore continued once the applause died down, “well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures professor, has retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs.”

There was scattered laughter from the students.

“However, I am pleased to say that his place has been filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”

The Great Hall erupted in another applause, louder than the one for Remus Lupin, though most of the excitement came from the Gryffindor table.

“You’re taking Care of Magical Creatures, right?” Blaise asked Draco, who nodded.

“Yes, I believe Theo and I will both be taking the course. What are your thoughts, Theo?”

He shrugged. “Hagrid knows his stuff,”

Draco nodded. “Yes, I agree.”

“Well,” Dumbledore said once more, “I think that’s everything for tonight. Let the feast begin!”

The golden plates and goblets were suddenly filled with food and drink. In front of Clara, she noticed that her goblet held lemonade, instead of the pumpkin juice that those beside her had. She was confused for a moment, before remembering the House elf Tabby, who she met just before the school year ended a few months ago. She grinned, taking the goblet and quickly drinking from it, before grabbing some of the roasted duck that looked particularly delicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else super glad that 2020's over and done with? I desperately hope that this year will be better, but I really don't want to jinx it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter!! This took a little longer than I'd like to admit to create, so I hope you enjoy it!

After the Welcome Feast, Clara got up to join her housemates as they walked down to the Dungeons when Professor Snape stopped her.

“Please join me to my office, Potter,” he said, his voice sounding quite like he’d prefer she does anything else.

Clara nodded, separating from the group of Slytherins, and started her way down the Great Hall’s corridor, in the direction that she found to be the quickest way to his office.

Harry managed to catch Clara’s eye as he and the other Gryffindors made their way to their forms, and when he lifted his eyebrow in question, Clara just shrugged.

She continued on her way to his office, only to pause right as her hand was about to touch the doorknob. Did she do something wrong? Was he going to question her about the Dementors? Or did he know that she could see the thestrals and wanted an explanation why? Clara shook her head. Speculating wouldn’t help, and the only way she’d know what he wants is to head in.

Clara took in a deep breath, twisted the doorknob, and pushed it open.

She was first greeted by Professor Snape placing a small goblet sitting on his desk, closest to her. Upon closer inspection, Clara noticed that it was filled with a shimmering gold potion.

“Drink it,” Professor Snape ordered, crossing his arms.

Clara took it, giving it a sniff. It smelled like the wildflowers that grew in the park near her elementary school. She took a tentative sip and nearly gagged when she tasted it.

When she sneaked a glance at Professor Snape, he was giving her an unimpressed look.

She looked back at the potion and swallowed thickly. She pinched her nose and scrunched her eyes shut, tipping her head back as she poured the rest of the potion into her mouth, swallowing it quickly. When she placed the goblet back on his desk, Professor Snape vanished it.

“It will help reverse the effects of the Dementor that came into your compartment. I didn’t have time to brew a stronger one, so you will have to come to the infirmary tomorrow afternoon to take it. Normally, you wouldn’t have to take it if you had the sense to eat a bar of chocolate immediately after,” he drawled off, and Clara perked up.

“Oh! But Mr. Lupin - or, Professor Lupin, I suppose - already gave us chocolate. He gave some to me, Ursa, Camilla, Scarlett, and even Draco.”

“Lupin?” Professor Snape echoed.

Clara nodded. “Scarlett said that Professor Lupin used a charm that Theo later identified as the Patronus charm to chase the Dementor away from us. He gave us chocolate to eat right after.”

Professor Snape, whose face was quite tight throughout the night, now looked entirely like he was sucking an exceedingly sour lemon. Clara began to wonder if she did something wrong by mentioning Professor Lupin.

“You will not need the second potion, Potter,” He finally said after many moments of silence, “leave.”

“Yes, Professor,” Clara curtsied, rushing out of the door and down the halls towards the Slytherin dorms.

She was curious why Professor Snape seemed to hate Professor Lupin so much, and his eyes went back to the icy exterior that he gave her nearly the entirety of last year.

Clara heaved a heavy sigh. It seemed that her mentioning that Professor Lupin took care of her took away whatever amount of kindness Professor Snape had for her. She wished she knew why.

*

Late that night, Clara snuck out of the Slytherin dorm.

She made a promise to Salazar Slytherin that she would get him out of that Chamber and into the Common room where he belonged. She wanted to make good on her promise, so she tugged her black robe around her tighter, huggling close to the walls of the castle - barefoot, as she didn’t want to risk her slippers smacking the castle floor. No doubt Filch was patrolling the halls, and she didn’t want to get caught by him - or worse, Peeves.

Clara shivered when she remembered Peeves, and her grip on her wand tightened in response. She knew that he was quite popular among the tricksters (Fred and George, specifically), but she truly disliked him. She understood that he enjoyed a good prank, as did everyone else, but some of his jokes went beyond necessary. Destroying things was one thing, but always bringing up a rumor that wouldn’t die down was another.

Finally, she reached the stairs leading to the second floor, where she quickly walked to Myrtle’s bathroom. Clara held her breath as she peeked around the side of the wall, her eyes darting for any sign of the ghost.

There, in the windowsill, Myrtle was asleep.

Clara’s eyebrows shot up when she saw it. She didn’t know ghosts needed to sleep! Since they were already dead, what was preventing them from staying up night after night? She narrowed her eyes and watched Myrtle a little while longer, ensuring that the ghost really was asleep and not merely resting.

When she decided it was enough, Clara walked towards the sink. She stared at the Snake engraved on the faucet and let out a soft

“Open,”

The sinks responded accordingly, creeping across the stone floors, making just enough room for Clara to move in between them.

She looked down the tunnel, remembering that Harry told her that he, Ron, and Lockhart slid down the tunnel to reach her the last time she was down in the Chamber. Clara considered it for a moment, thinking that sliding down the tunnel would be far more enjoyable than simply walking down the winding stairs.

Clara nodded her head.

She would jump down.

So she did. She grabbed onto her robe and gripped her wand tighter, pulling them tight against her body as she hopped into the tunnel. She let out a little squeak when she made contact with the smooth stone, but a broad smile broke out anyway. Once the initial panic of going down quickly, sliding down the tunnel was quite fun! She laughed as she took sharp corners down the tunnel, wondering why she never thought of sliding down in the first place.

All too soon, she reached the bottom, the tunnel spitting her out. When she contacted the floor, Clara lost her grip, and her hands went flying towards her face. Clara slammed against the wall in from of her, with several skeletons of the rodents the basilisk ate last year crushed up against her side.

Clara groaned, staying still for a moment before putting her hand down on the ground as she rolled over. Something cracked under the weight of it, causing her to flinch. She looked down, only to see one of the rodent skeleton bones broke under her hand. She needed to get them cleared up, and she figured the landing might be smoother if there weren’t anything to collide with on the way down. However, she didn’t know any cleaning charms, and she didn’t want to bring an entire cleaning set down with her the next time she came.

She stood up and wiped her hands against her robe, and she looked around for her wand. It was to the far side of the small enclosure, laying in the only clean section of the floor. Once retrieved, she quickly made her way to clear the rubble caused by Lockhart’s misfire before moving onto the door that led to the Chamber.

Clara stood in front of it, staring at the intricate designs of the snakes. She never did get a good look at them earlier - Tom had taken so much of her attention that she found that she hardly focused on anything but that most of last year. This time, she allowed herself to look at the door before telling it to open.

As each snake pulled away, Clara couldn’t help but feel fascinated by them. Such technology was centuries ahead of its time, and she wondered what else there was that was buried somewhere, waiting to be discovered. Maybe she could ask Salazar about what else he created.

When the door finally swung open, Clara took in a deep breath and stepped forward. As soon as she entered the Chamber, she saw the corpse of the basilisk. Tears stung the back of her eyes, and she swallowed hard to keep herself from crying. The basilisk wasn’t a cruel creature, and Clara was sorry that she met such a bitter end - to be controlled by someone who didn’t appreciate her beauty and was made to battle a young boy.

Clara shook her head sharply. No, she needed to focus on her task at hand.

She walked quickly to Salazar’s study and into his potions workroom, where his portrait was still hanging. However, he was not in it. Clara lifted an eyebrow, inspecting the portrait. He’s always been there, so it was quite odd to see him out of the frame.

“Hello?” She asked.

There was a crash sound, quickly followed by Salazar stepping into the frame.

“Miss Potter?”

“Good evening!” She pipped. “I came to bring you to the Slytherin Common room!”

Salazar’s brow furrowed. “Why are you in torn nightclothes?”

Clara looked down at her pajamas, blushing when she noticed for the first time that her clothes were quite torn up after sliding down the tunnel. Her pant leg had a massive tear, which she guessed was from that ribcage she landed against, and her shirt was torn on the side. She quickly grabbed the sides of her robe and wrapped them around her waist before taking the belt and tying it tightly across to keep the robe in place.

“I, uh, I tripped.”

Salazar snickered. “I think you did a bit more than tripped, young one.”

“Anyway, shall we go? What do I need to do?”

“There aren’t any sticking charms on me, so all you need to do is perform the  _ petrificus totalus _ charm to keep me from sliding out of the frame before you lift me off the nail this frame hangs on.”

“You’ll slide out of the frame?”

Salazar nodded. “Just like you would slide on a steep hill. I am not immune to steep areas simply because I am a portrait.”

“Oh, I see.” Clara cleared her throat. “ _ Petrificus totalus, _ ”

Opposite what she expected, Salazar did not fall over when he was affected by the spell - instead, he simply relaxed his shoulders and leaned against the side of the preparation table.

Clara’s eyes widened when she watched him, before she cleared her throat, focusing back on the task at hand. She figured it would be best to cast a featherlight charm, as the frame looked quite heavy. She closed her eyes, focusing on the last charm Professor Flitwick taught them before they left for the summer.

“ _ Levoires _ ,” She breathed, opening her eyes to see a soft white light coming from the tip of her wand and encompassing the portrait. Once the light disappeared, she slowly lifted the frame off the wall, feeling quite proud of herself for making something that she had no doubt weighed hundreds of pounds weigh no more than ten.

Clara began her trek back to the Slytherin Dungeons, careful not to show Salazar the basilisk’s corpse, lest he see her and become distraught. When she arrived at the tunnel to Myrtle’s bathroom, she uttered the command for stairs to appear and began the climb up. It was about this time that her feather-light charm began to wear off, so she moved the frame to rest on her back, almost like she was giving it a piggy-back ride.

By the time she reached Myrtle’s bathroom, she was panting quite loudly. Her arms were shaking, and her legs were quivering under the weight of the frame on her back. She considered taking a break, but the dangers of being discovered were too serious for her to feel comfortable stopping for a moment.

Clara noticed that Myrtle had moved from her spot on the windowsill and was nowhere in sight. Clara stilled, not daring to breathe, as her blood pulsed loudly in her ears (whether or not it was it from exhaustion, trying so hard to be quiet, or something else entirely, Clara didn’t know). Her eyes darted wildly, trying to find the ghost before she finally developed the courage the take another step.

“What are you doing?” a voice asked above her.

Clara squeaked, her head jerking up.

Myrtle was floating above her, staring at her quizzically.

“I-uh, um, nothing?”

Myrtle’s lips moved a bit. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” Myrtle grinned.

Clara was shocked at how much Myrtle looked like the young girl she was.

“Are you stealing a portrait?” Myrtle asked.

Clara’s jaw dropped. “What? No, of course not! Why would I do that?”

“The portrait’s frozen, and you just came out of the chamber. I think you’re stealing it.”

“No, I’m taking it back to its rightful place.”

“Which is?”

“The Slytherin common room.”

Myrtle seemed to give it a thought before she crossed her arms and nodded her head once. “You’re stealing it.”

Clara groaned. “No, I am not. This is a portrait of the founder Salazar Slytherin himself. It was in the chamber for the past who knows how long, and I’m taking it back to the common room.”

“How do you know that it was taken from the common room to begin with?”

“You certainly have a lot of questions for being a ghost, don’t you?”

Myrtle shrugged. “Not many people talk to me. They all think I’m too depressed to be around.”

“I’m sorry,”

She shook her head. “Not your fault.”

“Still-”

“Shh,” Myrtle placed her hand across Clara’s mouth, causing her to shiver violently from the cold. “Someone is passing,”

Indeed, there were shuffling sounds headed towards the doorway of the bathroom. And by the sounds of it, it was Mr. Filch himself.

Clara pressed her eyes shut, holding her breath.

The shuffling stopped, and Clara peeked an eye open.

Mr. Filch’s shadow appeared on the wall, and Clara’s fists tightened their hold on Salazar’s portrait frame as she tried to keep her heart from pounding.

A few seconds later, Mr. Filch seemed to be pleased with whatever he saw, so he continued on his way.

When Myrtle her hand away, Clara gasped for air. She  _ never _ wanted to touch another ghost for as long as she possibly lived. Once was far more than enough.

“Snape usually comes around five minutes after Filch, and if you go the usual way, you’ll get caught.” Myrtle supplied. “I recommend the path right behind the sixth suit of armor on the right once you leave this room. You’ll tap the chest plate and say the charm  _ semita tua revelare _ . It will slide open, and the path will be large enough for both you and the portrait. It will drop you off right in the hallway of the Slytherin entryway.”

Clara furrowed her eyebrows. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You can’t.” Myrtle shrugged. “But if you don’t follow my advice, you will be caught. It’s your choice.”

Clara pondered it for a moment.

“Time’s up, make your decision!” Myrtle said, flying up. “You’ve got to go now!”

Clara sighed and quickly walked out of the bathroom, turning to head to the suits of armor lined up against the hall. She counted, and once she arrived at the sixth one, she wrestled her wand out of her pocket, tapped the chest plate, and said the charm.

“ _ Semita tua revelare, _ ”

The suit remained still.

“ _ Semita tua revelare, _ ” She tried again.

Still nothing.

Clara opened her mouth to try once more but stopped when she heard footsteps. Her throat went dry when she recognized the step pattern.

It was Severus Snape, and she was out in the middle of the hall.

She might as well say good-bye to any free time she might have had in the school year since it will surely be occupied with the worst detention she had ever had in her life.

There was a quiet groan before the suit started to move.

Clara stuffed her wand back into her robe and readjusted her hold on the frame of the portrait. When there was enough room, Clara darted in.

The suit must have known she went in because it immediately shut once more - much quicker than it opened, she might add.

She shook her head, letting out a deep breath. She took her wand out of her pocket once again and used  _ lumos _ to light her way to the Slytherin entryway. She put the wand in her mouth before she readjusted her hold the portrait.

The first thing Clara noticed was that the path was quite spacious - with high, arched ceilings, and it had pillars every once in a while that looked like it could have been used as a source of light for whoever was traveling down it.

There were older decorations there, too, one of which was an old tapestry that Clara had only seen once in a picture book that her old school had. Right next to it was an empty picture frame - well, empty except for a beautiful garden with a water fountain just slightly to the right of being centered. She wondered why they were in this pathway, instead of being out with all the other decorations of Hogwarts.

By the time Clara finally made it to the Slytherin entryway, she never thought she could be so glad to see the stone door that kept their dorms hidden. She was awfully glad she wasn’t sorted into Gryffindor or Ravenclaw because climbing those stairs with the heavy frame would have been absolute murder for the young Slytherin.

She whispered the password and walked in, and she quickly looked around for a suitable place to put his portrait. There were other portraits, of course, but they were luckily all asleep. She settled on putting him above the central fireplace, where he could easily see all over the common room.

Clara slowly lowered the portrait and leaned against the empty fireplace, where she collapsed against the floor, panting. She slowly took out her wand, and before she could undo the charm that kept him still, a wave of fatigue took over, and her arm plopped down on the ground again. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she rested a moment before undoing the charm, would he?

“Thank you for carrying me, Clara,” she heard Salazar start, “But I’m afraid that you still need to hang my portrait up.”

Clara lifted her head and squinted her eyes at him. “Why are you talking? Shouldn’t you be still?”

“The charm wore off a little while ago. Though, it lasted longer than I thought it would, considering your age,”

Clara rolled her eyes, pushing herself onto her legs.

“Okay, where do you want to go?”

“Above the main fireplace is where I used to be. There should still be a hook just below the engraving of the aconite plant.”

Clara cast a  _ lumos _ charm and looked. She never really bothered to look at the fireplaces before, preferring to just look into the fire itself if she was down in the common room. She wondered if the other fireplaces had engravings of other plants or if it was just the central fireplace.

When she found it, she cheered. “I found it!”

“Excellent. Now, levitate me to the hook.”

“ _ Wingarduim Leviosa, _ ” Clara said, the portrait soon lifting into the air. She guided the frame up to the aconite plant before lowering it slowly to the hook that rested there.

Once the portrait settled, it was almost like the entire common room took in a breath of fresh air. The fires grew larger, the normally cold atmosphere of the common room grew warmer, and the windows looking out into the Black Lake were practically invisible. The lights around the common room grew a bit brighter, too, and the walls were less dreary-looking than they were a few moments ago. What made her most curious, though, was that everything in the common room looked softer and more inviting.

Salazar took in a deep breath. “Thank you for returning me to my place, Clara,”

“All in a day’s work!” Clara answered, just before a yawn managed to escape from her.

He chuckled. “I think it would be best for you to head to bed now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Clara nodded slowly, letting the fatigue settle on her. With a muffled ‘good night,’ Clara made her way upstairs and into her bed, careful not to disturb Maple, who was perched on the owl perch near her bed, where she fell asleep before her head touched her pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!!


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